


Pokemon SW/SH x Reader Collection

by omi_writings



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, obligatory Applin fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omi_writings/pseuds/omi_writings
Summary: A collection of x Readers from my old writing blog on tumblr!
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Reader, Leon/Reader, Nezu | Piers (Pokemon)/Reader, Yarrow | Milo/Reader
Comments: 45
Kudos: 466





	1. Smile for the Camera (Leon x Reader)

It was an anxiety-inducing thing, inviting someone to a ball.

Yes, this was a gala. Yes, you understood that technically it wasn’t like you were going to a school dance. You weren’t going to gather in cliques around the punch table and stare at your crush from across the room only to look away when you locked eyes, and probably then go comfort your friend crying in the bathroom.

It wasn’t going to be like that, because you were a grown adult. Going to a fancy event with people who were mostly all also grown adults. It wasn’t an end of year ball. It wasn’t prom. It wasn’t homecoming.

But it felt like it.

“Oh no…” Your voice is strained as it leaves you, small and nerve-wracked as your throat tightened up.

The crowds are massive. People gathered up around the long red carpet that wound out of Wyndon Stadium. Cameras were flashing, people were cheering and it is with deep nausea that you realize all of this hullabaloo is for you.

Winning the championship in your 20s was never the plan. Winning at all was never the plan, but when Hop, the teenager you babysat the past year, and your close friend, wanted to go on the Gym Challenge, you found something you’d never thought you’d find.

A drive to win.

And you did. Over and over and over. Beating trainers, gym leaders, the chairman himself and then, Leon.

Leon, who had won the championship when he was 10. Leon, who had never lost a battle.

Leon, the defeated ex-champion.

He was the only person who could know what to do with a crowd like this. The only person who understood the pressure that threatened to break your back. Leon, with all his charm and sweetness, was the person you needed.

It’s for that reason that as you look down the line of beautifully dressed Gym Leaders, and story-hungry journalists, you reach out to grasp the only person who really got it.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You try your very best not to focus on how Leon’s breath feels fanning across your neck as he whispers in your ear. Your fingers cling to his arm, and you do your best to not lock eyes with him as his hand lands comfortably on your waist.

You still don’t know why he accepted your invitation as your partner. He’d had plenty of people lining up, and to be fair, so did you. Though every person that asked, man, woman or otherwise, clearly only had intentions to bask in the attention you were still so getting used to. And the last thing you needed was a date wanting you for clout and clout alone.

Leon smiles and takes your arm, placing a comforting hand over yours.

“Ready?” No. But there was no point in stalling any longer. You smile back, and the two of you begin to walk down the carpet.

Clicks and shouts fill your ears as cameras flash and take pictures. All you want is to melt away into nothing, to go home and not have to suffer through any more of this. But you can’t, so you force a smile on your face and concentrate on nothing else but Leon and his warmth.

You see the reporters, near-feral as they try their best to call you and Leon over. The buzz was bad enough before, but now the two of you were walking together. A weight now settled in your stomach, as you realized the implications of what you had originally intended to be a platonic invitation.

Leon, he was- Beautiful. And kind, and wonderfully sweet. And he couldn’t be the kind of guy who’d fall for you, right? He came along out of courtesy, as a friend, right?

“I think… I think people think we’re together.” You whisper in his ear as you reach the midway point. Wyndon Stadium seems so very far away. You don’t look his direction, but you hear a huff of a laugh as he leans in and once again makes your head spin.

“And if I don’t mind if they think that?” You stop walking, steps faltering as you nearly trip up over yourself. Leon stops as well, and the cameras flashing and clicking only gets louder, along with a growing hum of whispers.

He- He was kidding. He had to be kidding, right? You focus on his face, but he doesn’t- oh good lord, he’s not kidding.

“What?” All that bravado seems to melt away as Leon looks around at the gargantuan crowds, visibly flustered. He swallows and shuts his eyes, before patting both sides of his face.

“I don’t mind.” He says again, taking your hand between his. He passes another glance around to the crowds, and you finally remember where you are. An anxious shiver runs down your spine.

“C’mon.” He pulls you closer and you let him, his arm wraps tighter than before around your waist, the other hand reaches across and clasps your own. Your side is flush up against him as you walk. You feel like royalty as he escorts you down the red carpet, and it’s with a dry mouth and a fast-beating heart that you briefly imagine a wedding, before forcing the image from your mind with an embarrassed huff.  
“Thank you, for saying yes.” You whisper to him when you meet the doors, both turning back to give one last wave to the cameras and people. He doesn’t even look at them, reaching out to cup your face.

“Anything for you, Champion.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple that sends the crowds into a frenzy. You freeze on the spot and he steps away, going to the open doors.

Did that just happen? You swivel around to look at him and see him waiting in the doorway, the light from behind him making him glow like some kind of angel. The grin on his face is completely disarming, and your heart falters. A shy smile blooms on your face.

Yes, that did happen. And if you were going to have your way, it would happen again.

You walk up and let him lead you inside, holding the hands so lightly your palms only barely touched. You spared one more glance at him, your heart aflutter.

Maybe this would be a long night. And maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.


	2. A Divergence from Program (Leon x Reader)

Leon coming home late was never something that shocked you. Whether it was because he’d become lost or simply a matter of his work as the champion getting in the way, there were some nights he just couldn’t be home when you or he would like it.

You weren’t unaccustomed to this. Sitting at the windowsill in your shared Wyndon apartment, looking out over the city with a cup of tea left unsipped, it’s warmth having long since been absorbed into your hands that clutched it close. With your knees at your chest, you watched lights flicker on and off in the distance, signalling homes and apartments shutting down for the night, or individuals finding themselves unable to sleep, looking for solace in reruns of old tv shows and a cup of coffee.

You, nearly half asleep, waited for the telltale sound of the door clicking open.

It’s a sound that graced your ears close to midnight, just before you’d begun to nod off. The tea has long been poured down the sink, your mug abandoned for washing the next morning. You clothes are the same as the ones you pulled on that morning, pyjamas only seemed an option when you knew Leon could snuggle into bed at your side.

As such, it was only an option now you heard his familiar, tired voice that called your name once, like a prayer.

You didn’t jump to your feet and run to him. You didn’t call his name. Instead, the smallest of smiles pulled upon your lips as his footsteps grew louder. 

Without so much as looking at him, you listened as Leon stalked right across the living room, past the kitchen and past the bedroom to the window where you sat, and enveloped you in a warm hug.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled like he always did when he was late. Your fingers travelled up his back, knotting in his hair as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, forgiving as always.

“You’re busy, don’t ever apologize for having a life.” You murmured back and slowly rubbed your fingers into his scalp, which elicited a happy hum. As always, he melted under your touch. As always, you found your inner peace in his grip.

As you always did on nights like these, you settled into each other’s tight hold, soon to retire to bed for a long night of rest and affection. 

You went to press two kisses to his eyelids. Everything was normal, a night like the others.

Until it wasn’t.

Where Leon usually revelled in your touch, he instead flinched and pulled away. Hissing a soft cry of pain. With your hands raised in the air, and your eyes wide with shock, you watched as he stumbled back, a hand covering one side of his face.

When he took it away, you got your first look at his face since you’d kissed him goodbye that morning. Namely, you got a good look at the purple bruise that ran a ring around his eye right socket, tinting his eyelid like the worst attempt at dark eye shadow the world had ever known.

Any gentle, comforting air was gone, replaced by a sudden, and uncontrollable anger on your behalf.

“Who gave you that black eye?” Your tone is so strong, so vicious that Leon looks like he’d been punched by the words and not whatever soon to be dead thing had laid a hand on him.

“No one?” It was unbelievable, even without the heightened pitch of Leon’s voice that always gave away when he was lying. He sighed and settled back against the arm of your living room couch, and you rose from your windowsill and walked close to get a better look.

It was a nasty injury. The kind that would get a player a red card in any sport, or an assault charge off the field. Your finger traced around the area carefully, and your heart ached when you heard his soft winces in response.

“Who gave you that black eye, Leon?” Your voice was soft now, as your lips pressed a kiss to his forehead. His hands went to rest on your hips, and he sighed.

“I was training today. Practising against Raihan, and we both went a little overboard and…” He trailed off, and your anger flared once again.

“Raihan did this?!” You sounded ready to storm over to his place to chew him out that instant and Leon grabbed your hands, his eyes wide. 

“No, No he didn’t—” Then who? You ran another hand through his hair, doing a mental checklist of the things in your medicine box. You’d need to get bruise cream in the morning…

As you ticked off the items in a first aid kit in your mind, Leon squirmed underneath you. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, and his fingers were tapping nervous patterns on your hips and sides. You took his face in your hands, careful only to hold his cheeks, and looked into his eyes.

“Leon.”

“You have to promise not to laugh.” Your eyebrows shot up. Laugh? This wasn’t some comedy, he’d been hurt! Why on earth would you laugh?

“Of course, I would never.” You murmured, hurt by the implication that you would even think of doing such a thing. Leon shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I gave myself this black eye.”

What.

“What?” You waited for him to start laughing, to tell you the person who had actually hurt him, accident or no. But he didn’t.

“I won the battle and I got really excited because it was so fun, and when I went to do my pose I misjudged my stance, and where my head was and I punched myself in the face.” He spoke rapidly without taking a single breath, and only opened his eyes again when he had finished speaking.

He stared into your unblinking eyes, your mouth slightly agape, your hands paused in their caressing of his hair.

“You promised you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I’m not.” You said unconvincingly, straining every muscle in your body as the image of Leon— of Leon punching— Of—

“Stop!” He whined, and called out your name, hiding his face in your chest as your whole torso shook. You bit your tongue, you held your breath, you held his hair so tightly you feared you’d pull it from its roots and cause him more harm.

“You silly man…” You murmured, planting kisses to his head as he let out the worlds longest, most distressed groan.

“Let’s go get you an icepack…” You said after a minute, taking a step back. Champion Leon, with his giant, stupid black eye nodded and stood up, lifting a hand to his face so you couldn’t see the welt any longer.

Relief, more than anything, filled you. That he hadn’t been hurt on purpose, that this would just become a silly story to tell at a party later. That you could soon return to the same late-night routine, albeit with fewer face kisses for you to gift on your behalf.

You watched the Champion struggle to open up the freezer and pull out a bag of peas for his ‘legendary injury’. You watched as the peas caught on the corner of the fridge, and tore open, scattering on the ground. You watched as with one hand, Leon tried futilely to catch the thousands of green orbs and let out a cry of defeat.

You would not laugh. You would not laugh.

And miraculously, you didn’t.


	3. Growing Up (Piers x Reader)

It was hard for you to say what you liked about Piers the most when, in your opinion, there was just so much about him to love.

His style was one thing. So eye-catching and cool, you were positive there was no other gym leader in Galar as brilliantly dressed. Even Nessa, a model, couldn’t compare to the stand-out style Piers had, in your opinion at least.

Then there was his work as a Gym Leader. The first Dark Type gym, that you’d ever heard of at least. And the only Gym in Galar that didn’t Dynamax, something born from necessity, with Spikemuth’s lack of power spot, and of principal. Refusing to Dynamax during fights against other Gym Leaders wasn’t just bold, it was impressive. And with his knack for keeping up, and even besting leaders who used Dynamax, there was no denying that Piers had some impressive raw talent.

The thing you liked most about Piers, however, was his willingness to put aside his time and put forward effort when it came to the things he cared about most. Namely, his family, and you.

“You really don’t have to come with us, you know.” Walking down the route 9 tunnel to Hammerlocke was hardly necessary. There were hundreds of Corviknight taxi’s ready and waiting to take you to the massive city, where you and Marnie would be sizing up her opponents in the upcoming Gym Challenge and you would be visiting family.

Walking wasn’t necessary, no, but you remembered travelling on foot during your gym challenge with such fondness, that you insisted the two of you spend some time looking at pokemon to catch, and the sights to see.

Piers, your boyfriend and Marnie’s older brother, was less than thrilled with the idea. And had taken this matter into his own hands.

“I’ll need to be there for the big trainer show off whatever.” Piers grumbled from beside you. The two of you pushed past some grass, the Route 9 tunnel in sight. From behind you, Marnie let out a long sigh.

“But you hate walking for too long! You could have just taken a taxi!”

“And so could you!”

“I didn’t ask you to come along!”

“Would you prefer Team Yell escort you?”

“I would prefer no escort at all,” Marnie grumbled and crossed her arms, her Morpeko, out of its pokeball and sniffling at the tall grass, began to change its form, it’s lovely yellow fur growing purple, it’s sweet little eyes going red. Enraged on behalf of its beloved trainer.

Oh, as much as you loved them both, did this have to happen now?

Pinching your nose you took a deep breath, your Linoone let out a troubled noise at your feet, looking between the two bickering siblings, before looking at you. You wished you could have explained the complexities of having brothers or sisters to the pokemon, or that you could fully understand them yourself.

“Why don’t we let Marnie walk ahead?” You offered and were given a deadly look by Piers who, admittedly, didn’t need to do much to look threatening.

Piers wanted to be a good brother, who could look after Marnie. But he also wanted her to become the best trainer she could be, and you knew he had to know that a part of that was growing independently. You could see the conflict in his eyes, though he looked away.

“I’d like that!” Marnie piped up, jogging up to stand beside you and Piers. He stopped, and the two of you followed suit, watching as he stood there, before he let out a sigh.

“Go.”

Marnie didn’t have to be told twice and bounded off, disappearing down the tunnel without much more than a swift goodbye.

You stared at Piers out of the corner of your eyes, a half-smile on your lips.

“What?” He sighed, and you took his hand, knotting your fingers with his.

“You’re a good brother. But you’ll have to let her on her own path one day.” You ran your thumb over the top of his knuckles, and the two of you began to walk again, your Linoone comfortably rubbing against your ankles.

“I know,” He sighed again. “Do you have to stay at Hammerlocke for so long?”

You didn’t want to be away from him at all, even if it was only a week. Still, your family was important, and he knew that better than anyone. You swung your hands and shrugged. It was out of your control.

“I’ll be back before you know it, and then I can go back to watching you practise singing for 4 hours in the hopes you’ll take a break to kiss me.” He snorted at that, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. He really was so tall.

“I look forward to it.” He murmured against your skin, and you turned your head to kiss him, humming comfortably against his lips.

“As do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still getting used to writing for Piers, but I hope you enjoy! I'm looking forward to writing more for him soon!


	4. A Lot in Common (Milo x Reader)

You knew the first gym in your Gym Challenge wasn’t going to take a lot to bowl over. Over a decade ago you had completed the Challenge in your own home region and earned yourself a place as a Gym Leader not long after. You weren’t expecting to have to put up much of a fight, even with your decision to use pokemon from this region— and your darling Serperior, of course.

But man, did you not expect to so thoroughly destroy your opponent so quickly.

And man, was it a shame since Turffields’ Grass Type Gym was the exact same typing as your one back home.

“Good match!” The gym leader, Milo, had congratulated you as he recalled his fainted Appletun. One of only two pokemon he’d used in the fight.

Which brought you to your next disappointment.

That this Gym Leader, Milo, was undeniably and thoroughly cute.

You’d first seen him at the big presentation a few days before, at Hammerlocke Stadium. There the Gym Leaders and Challengers were shown off to the world, as the entire region of Galar prepared to see those who would be standing up to their beloved Champion. And while you knew you should have taken the time to size up your opponents, you couldn’t help but stare at Milo.

Walking up to meet you in the middle of the Stadium, you got a better look at him. Closer than you’d got back in Hammerlocke, anyway. He was short, with a puff of pink hair, and built like a brick building. His gentle expression was overtaken by a wide smile as he reached you, and extended his hand to shake yours.

It’s only then that you were again made aware of the thousands of people cheering your name in the crowd around you. Your cheeks grew warm.

This Milo had a strange effect on you.

“I believe this is yours.” He handed you the Grass Badge, and you took the time to inspect it. A fraction that fit into a large ring, the first of what was to be many pieces. Decidedly a lot cooler than the simple box of enamel pins you handed out.

“That was a brilliant battle! You did well!” You were speechless as you recieved the praise, only able to nod and smile as he took your hand to shake it.

“We should talk more after!” After… Oh! Right, more challengers to face. You stuttered out an affirming response, before bowing to the massive audience and retreating to the foyer.

There you were handed a grass type uniform, which you adored, and were given directions to the next gym. Nessa’s, which was water type. Something you’d have no issue with, considering your team.

You took a seat and watched other gym challengers exit and enter. None seemed to have been given the special request by Milo, which made you wonder, had you done something wrong?

Perhaps you had made him uncomfortable with all the staring? That was if he’d even noticed it… Or you’d made a fool of him in his own Gym. It was no secret that you were a Grass Type Leader. Maybe he was worried you’d come for his job?

It was all too much, and while the questions and anxieties swam around in your head, you failed to notice the last battle before a short break had ended, and that Milo had finally entered the foyer. He zeroed in on you, and before you even had time to prepare he was standing in front of you, a glint in his eyes.

“You’re a Grass Type Gym Leader, correct?” You’d barely been able to say hello before he fired off a question. It took a few seconds for your brain to catch up, but once it did you gave him an answer.

“Oh, yes! Why?” His eyes lit up at the confirmation, and you figured you weren’t in trouble.

“I’ve never met another Grass Leader before. And I was wondering if…” You tilted your head and waited for him to go on.

“It’s just that I’ve never seen a Serperior up close before…” Any anxiety that had once consumed you disappeared. Overtaken instead by a sharp joy that burst through your heart, as your hand swiftly moved to your Pokeballs. You were on your feet in an instant.

“Oh! I have my whole gym team here if you’d like to meet them?” His eyes flashed and your heart fluttered, as with one hand you pulled out your portable PC, and switched your babies to your team. Milo seemed to be doing the same.

“Of course! Here, let me get all mine as well.”

“You have more than Appletun?” Your eyebrows raised, and Milo laughed. It was a wonderful sound that made your heart flutter.

“Of course, but I can’t exactly bring them all out in the first gym. It wouldn’t be fair.” Yes, you supposed being the first gym would mean limitations. You were lucky that Challengers met you later on; the rush of a good battle was never absent when they met you, often with an abundance of types in their team.

“Here we are…” As you spoke, you let out each member of your team in the Stadium’s foyer, earning gasps from onlookers as Serperior, Jumpluff, Breeloom, Roserade, Sawsbuck and Whimsicott materialized in front of them.

At the same time, Milo let out his team. Appletun, Flapple, Eldegoss, Bellossom, Cherrim and Shiftry. The squeal of joy that left you could have shattered glass as you dropped to your knees and greeted

“Hello, hello! Hello!” You gushed happily to Milo’s pokemon, paying special attention to the Galar natives. Appletun, Flapple and Eldegoss… they were beautiful Pokemon. You had to make sure you caught some before you returned home.

“Milo, they’re wonderful!” You enthused to the trainer, who himself seemed enraptured with your Serperior. Your grass types all intermingled with varying levels of friendliness. While his Pokemon seemed open, if a little hesitant, yours weren’t so sure. Particularly Whimsicott, who took his place hiding behind your crouched form.

“I’m sorry, he’s a little shy.” You told Milo, bringing Whimsicott up into your arms as you stood. He rose up as well, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s partly my fault, I just got over-excited. It’s like I said, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting another Grass Trainer before. You understood completely, having only met a few in your lifetime. It was disappointing that more people didn’t seem to truly understand the beauty of Grass types. They were the best Pokemon, in your mind.

“It’s okay.” You assured him, and then pulled out your rotomphone. You wondered...

“Seeing as I’m the first grass leader you’ve met, how about we exchange numbers? I’d love to talk strategy and pool our collective knowledge.” The shepherding of Wooloo had been a fantastic addition to the gym challenge, that made it all the more engaging. And you wanted to hear more from the man who probably came up with such a fun idea.

And maybe… get to know him a little better. For the sake of the Challenge, of course.

A light blush feathered Milo’s face, and he nodded, pulling out his own rotomphone. Gosh, he was so cute.

“I’d like that.” He said softly, and you took down each other’s contact details, putting away your phones once you’d finished. A silence fell over the two of you.

You both stared at each other and you took the moment to take in his sweet face, with cute freckles and eyes as green as the pokemon he battled with. Your Whimsicott looked up at you in confusion, only to jump when an announcer calling for Milo’s presence shattered the brief moment and ripped you both back to reality.

“I better—”

“Right. Yeah, good luck!” You smiled and cursed inwardly at your childish affection. Milo returned all his pokemon to their balls and begun to jog back towards the stadium’s entrance, offering you one last sweet smile.

“It was nice meeting you!” He called, once again destroying your heart rate. You were left helpless, able only to wave weakly in response. It was only when he was gone from your sight, to continue on with his job he seemed to cherish so much, that your Serperior decided to weigh in. Staring up at you with sharp, knowing eyes.

There was a downside to owning a pokemon for most of your life. And that downside was it’s innate knowledge of you and your nature, even in the most unlikely of circumstances.

“Not a word.” You warned her, though she could hardly say a word. Chirping softly as you returned each of your pokemon to their pokeballs.

The journey ahead was the most important thing. 1 down, 6 to go. 

You hefted your backpack onto your shoulders and walked out the door, a skip in your step, and confidence in your walk. People stepped aside to let you through, as you walked out into the open air, and took a deep breath.

Though you’d be lying if you said your thoughts weren’t consumed not by the tactics you should take upon the next battle, but the attractive face a pink-haired gym leader, and his sweet, kind smile. Still, you did your best to focus on the task at hand.

To Hulbury you would go.


	5. How To Say It (Leon x Reader)

Breeding Pokemon was harder than you thought it would be.

Freshly arrived in Galar, freshly finished university and set on learning all there was to know about the Pokemon of this region. Most would start in the fields, catching Pokemon to add to their Pokedex. You took the unconventional route and began your search at the Pokemon Nursery in Galar.

It was hard work. Learning the eggs’ particular types, finding Pokemon who liked each other and making sure the Pokemon that were breeding were healthy and happy at all times. The people who worked there were always accommodating, ready to help with any questions or problems you'd run into.

Indeed all of Galar's people were friendly and accommodating. And you'd been lucky enough to have made many friends over the past 3 months of your residence here. And it was the house of one of these friends that you were approaching today.

Leon, once the champion of Galar, now kept busy with running The Battle Tower. A great challenge that you would likely never want to go up against if the rumours of each trainer’s power were true. Nevertheless, you approached the man’s house in Postwick, where he lived with his mother, in the hopes of catching him on a mandatory day off his family had all but forced upon him.

It was your lucky day. 

You found him sitting out in front of his mother's home. Gone were the flashy clothes, replaced by a shirt and baggy pants and a black, unpatterned snapback. Here he was just Leon, from Postwick, sitting in the sun in a garden chair, his eyes closed. Was he asleep?

You stopped at the gate and stared at him. Fingers lightly resting n the iron-wrought fence, the sun warming your back. You should have just walked right up there to greet him, maybe even given his foot a little kick, just to laugh at his surprise. Instead, you were selfish. You took the moment for yourself and stared, a dreamy smile on your face.

It was embarrassing, having a crush at this age. Crush still felt like such a diminutive word to describe the force of what you felt for your friend. But crush was easier to say. It was less committal, and it didn’t make you as nervous as the obvious progression in feelings did.

Because it’s easy to get over a crush and let it slip away and become irrelevant. It’s simple to ignore and let it run it’s course, through and out of your system. You’d had a billion crushes before.

Maybe that’s how you knew this one was different.

You shook your head and reminded yourself of why you were here. You reached back and felt the egg in your bag, warmed by heating pads you’d stuffed the bag lining with. It was safe, all that was left was to give it up.  
And you had to give it up, no matter how much you loved this as of yet unknown Pokemon. There wasn’t enough room in the incubators.

Lucky for you, and the other breeders, you already knew the perfect trainer that would give this pokemon the love it deserved.

The gate, surprisingly, made no noise as you opened and shut it. You barely even made a sound as you walked across the dirt and gravel to where Leon was sleeping, his cap lowered over his eyes, his hands crossed over his chest. You gave him a fond smile as you reached his side.

And then you knocked the cap off of his head with your hand.

“Wha-?” Awake in an instant, he looked ready to spring into action, perhaps to fight a gigantamax pokemon or stop some Team Yell hooligan. Hands up he went to his belt for his Pokeballs, eyes wide and alert.

All pretences of alarm were settled, once his eyes fell on you.

“I thought you were a wild pokemon!” He sighed and got to his feet to straighten out his shirt, though you did spot the faintest of smiles on his face. You rolled your eyes.

“No, I’m a human.” You said, retrieving his hat which had fallen limply to the ground after your attack. You brushed the dirt off of it and handed it to Leon, who nodded in thanks.

“Why are you here?” So blunt. You sighed and crossed your arms, mouth a hard line as Leon gave you an innocent look. Your eyebrows raised.

“What, no hello?” 

It was his turn to roll his eyes, arms crossed as he leaned in with a fake scowl.

“You lost your hello privileges when you attacked me.” You leaned in as well and made your noses touch as you smiled, and did your best to ignore the pounding of your heart.

“If I told you I had a gift for you, would you still be angry?” His eyes lit up. You took his answer to be a no and gently set your bag down on the ground.

“Is it a cool gift?” You snorted at the question as you undid the zip, hands finding the hard shell of the large egg, nestled safely between the fabric of your bag. Yes, you decided. The coolest gift you could give anyone.

“I think so.” You said and then hefted the egg into the warm sunlight.

Leon’s eyes went wide with delight, his hands going to spot the small unborn pokemon as you settled it in your arms. He was practically rocking on his heels in joy, and the sight made you melt inside. He loved pokemon just as much as you, and it thrilled you to absolutely no end.

“Who is this?” He asked, hands out, ready to take the egg from you. Well, more ready to snatch it from your arms he was so excited. You relented and handed it over, watching his sunflower coloured eyes soften as he looked at it. He held it close to his chest.

“I don’t know. All I know was that it just appeared. Someone left it at the front desk. There wasn’t enough space in the nursery or the incubators, and I didn’t just want to abandon the little thing. I figured you’d be happy to help.” As you explained, Leon looked you up and down suspiciously, taking a step back with the egg. Huh?

“So, am I the babysitter or-” Ah.

“Yours to keep.” His entire body relaxed and then tensed with excited energy.

“Yes!” You bit your lip and held back an elated giggle. He was too sweet, and you knew you’d made the right decision as he slipped off his cap, and rested it cautiously on the egg.

Leon locked eyes with you with a smile so bright it nearly winded you. In your shock, you failed to notice him move to hold the egg under one arm, his other hand going out to take yours. When his fingertips brushed your palm, you felt close to passing out. That same smile turned gentle and made your knees weak.

“I promise to take care of it.”

And he did. For the next 2 weeks, you were given constant updates on the egg, from photos to texts from Leon that read like novels. Paragraphs upon paragraphs giving you an in-depth look at the whole process. Every day he’d go to the Battle Tower, the egg safe in his backpack or an incubator he kept there. He’d tuck the egg into a group of blankets on his bedside table, and send you a good morning and good night message every day.

Crush was no longer a word you could use to describe Leon.

Every text made your heart sing, every sentence he wrote gripped you and left you wanting more to read. You wanted to hear his voice in person with every voicemail, you wanted to see him in real life with every photo. It wasn’t just a crush anymore. It was too deep to define with just one simple word.

The question now was how to address it. A letter was too formal, and you doubted you had the words to convey the depth of your emotions. A speech would likely end up worse, with you stumbling or flubbing your words. And a text? That was an abysmal way to confess. Beaten only in terribleness by breaking up over text.

These worries subsided when, one morning, you didn’t receive the morning text. You thought nothing of it at first and went to work, but then noticed something was wrong when it reached lunchtime and you realized you hadn’t received any photos yet, unlike the 4 you’d already had by 10 am. Confusion turned into concern, and concern into panic when the day ended and you were still met with radio silence.

Your agony ended the next morning when you received one message from Leon. Made up of three terrifying words.

‘Can we talk?’

The whole way to Postwick you were fretting. Had you done something wrong? Had he done something wrong? Was the egg okay? Questions whirled around your head as you took taxi to train, and train to a footpath until finally, you’d reached his house.

It was around lunchtime, at the weekend. Just as sunny as the day you’d last visited. He wasn’t outside basking in the sun. You didn’t pause at the gates with a sense of peace. Instead, your feet willed you to the door, where you knocked a rhythmless pattern on the wood.

You heard footsteps hammer behind the door, as Leon ran from wherever he had been in the house, throwing open the door in a frenzy. His purple hair askew, and pretty amber eyes wide, you watched as he froze for a second, gaze locked with yours momentarily before he took a sudden and deep breath and leaned against the doorway, trying what you think was- yes, that was supposed to be a smooth smile.

“Hey.” You opened your mouth but no words came out. You didn’t have to speak, you found, for the sound of rolling, growing closer and closer took your whole attention. You stared past to posing Leon, at the… apple.

The apple, that had just rolled after Leon, and now sat behind him.

The apple was staring at you.

You blinked. It blinked. Everything clicked into place.

“Oh, it hatched!” Leon didn’t say anything as you pushed past him and knelt down in an effort to get closer to the pokemon, head tilted, a smile on your face.

Not frightened at all, the pokemon rolled into your hands, so small and cute. You stood up with the little thing cradled in your arms and turned to Leon with the brightest look in your eye. Oh, this was incredible! And it was such a nice shade of green!

“An Applin, oh wow! Aren’t they dragon type?” You thought they were, at the very least. A fact you think you picked up from Milo or Raihan during your first few weeks in Galar.   
You looked to Leon, to see if he would confirm this thought, and found that he was staring right through you.

“You don’t know.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Wracked with shock, horror and… disappointment? His eyes were almost glassy, and unfocused and it tore you apart. Your face fell, your heart ached. What didn’t you know? What was going on?

Leon’s hands went up to his face and he tiredly rubbed his eyes.

“Get your Pokedex out and check it.” 

“O...kay?” Confused, you obliged, and drew out your rotomphone with one hand, holding it over the happy little pokemon that sat in the other. Black text popped up on the screen and you squinted, and read it aloud.

“Applin. The apple core Pokemon. It’s said if you give the Pokemon to the one you love, you’ll be… together… forever...”

You-

You’d just-

Had you? Oh god, you had. Oh no. Oh no.

“Uh.” You swallowed, and Leon looked away and barked a short high pitched laugh. He didn’t meet your gaze.

“You didn’t know, right?” You didn’t know but...

“Right! Right, I didn’t! I’m not from here!” Yes, you didn’t know. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t mean it. And that didn’t mean your chest didn’t cave in and ache as he turned back, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Exactly, we’re just good friends!” You felt the smile on your face falter.

“Good friends.” You agreed, your throat tight. Leon cleared his and nodded.

“Best friends!” And nothing more. Ever. You put away your phone and held out the Applin to him. The Pokemon stared up at you, it’s little leaf eyes slanted and upset.

“Really… good… friends.” You trailed off as Leon stepped forward to take it. His hands extended outwards, fingertips brushing yours. And you waited in agony for him to just end your suffering, and snatch away the Pokemon that had almost ruined your friendship.

But he didn’t his hands hovered, and when you looked up, his gaze was firmly on the Pokemon, teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

Suddenly his eyes snapped up to meet yours. No longer looking through you, but right at you. A chill ran down your spine.

“But say if you had meant it…” You’d never heard Leon like this. His voice shook, his hands shook as they hesitated and hesitated, and then moved under yours, holding them there, as you held the Applin.

Neither of you looked away, though a burning embarrassment in your stomach begged you to.

“It would have been a really good way to confess. Definitely how I would like to be confessed to, one day.” Why was he telling you this? Your skin felt hot, your muscles felt weak and you couldn’t understand why he would be telling you this if… If he…

Unless...

“Something to keep in mind.” He said softly, and there was no doubt about where his eyes were now. Moving just a little downwards to your lips, which were shaking.

Your mouth felt dry. That’s the only thing you could feel, even with his hands fitting so snugly over yours. You were numb, entirely unaware of your movements. No longer in control of what you were feeling.

This was no clearer when you pushed the Applin into Leon’s hands and then pushed up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips.

It missed, and your top lip hit his bottom one as he became rigid, like a statue on the spot. Oh, this was a bad idea. This was a mistake. Why had you done that, why did you kiss him?

Why did he pull away suddenly, only to move back in to kiss you?

The kiss was firm and sure, and it didn’t miss. A little stiff at first, but that gave way when you leaned into him, and let his tongue run across your lips one, two times. Indeed, the way his body shook told you the only thing that was stopping him from pulling you flush against him as the very confused very newborn Pokemon that currently sat in his palms, close to being squished between you.

You broke apart, for the Applin’s sake, but not before pressing a kiss to his nose. You watched it scrunch up, contrasting the goofy, dreamy smile on his lovely face. You nearly swooned.

“Best friends huh?” You asked breathlessly as he carefully placed the Applin on the ground, some distance away, before surging back to take your face in his hands, whereafter he pressed a kiss against your lips.

It was pure bliss.

“The best of friends.” He responded in a whisper when he pulled away and pressed a line of kisses along your jaw, before swooping in again to slip his tongue between your lips.

You think you have a word for it now, though neither one of you have said it aloud. Everything you feel and have ever felt about him bubbled in one pot, simmering and building up to heat. You never knew what it was, just that it burned, slowly but steadily, warming you every time you kept near. Sustaining and pushing you to go along.

You have a word for it now, and it’s a new one only in how it makes you feel. In how you associate with someone and associate it with happiness which you never have before.

Synonymous with Leon. Synonymous with everything he is and everything he is to you. You know this word now, as he kisses it into your very being.

You call it love.


	6. Fade Away (Leon x Reader)

Leon had made a lot of stupid decisions throughout the time you’d been together. You adored him, head to toe inside and out. You loved him to pieces but it was an undeniable fact. Long before either of you had any idea of your feelings, you’d seen the worse end of repercussions he received when staying out too late in the wild area or trying to go from one city to another by himself.

However, they were always poor decisions made in the realm of reality. Of things you could comprehend, things where you could maybe see his point of view. Dumb decisions that in hindsight probably looked like they made sense at the moment, to him in the very least.

But there was no realism to this. The repercussions of this unreal, hellish even were in front of you, actually happening. The event which had brought you such pain— It had happened. It had passed and you had witnessed it with your very own eyes and yet your mind just could not grasp it. Like a barrier had come between you and the rest of the world, translucent and blurring. Protecting you from the truth, while barring you from reality.

The Darkest Day. Eternatus. Leon getting hurt. That all just happened. But you just can’t admit that yet.

Because admitting that would admit that you had done nothing. That you couldn’t do anything to stop any aspect of it. And that hurt far more than any wound inflicted on your body.

“He’s just got a concussion and some bruises. No broken bones, no internal bleeding. He’s fine.” Raihan spoke like a robot, repeating the same list of words he'd practically been chanting since you walked in through the hospitals front doors.

As true as those words were, they didn’t stop you from pacing swiftly up and down the hallway, which was empty save for you two and the other gym leaders. No one wanted to be near you when you were in a state like this.

“But what if he’s not.” You paused and shot him a look, and watched as his shoulders slumped. The other gym leaders did the same.

“He will be.”

“But if he’s not.”

A hand extended itself over to rest on your shoulder before you could begin to list off any worst-case scenarios. Milo, though he was just as worried as you were, smiled.

“Then the doctors will make sure he is.”

You opened your mouth to argue back, but that would have required energy. And you were far too drained for that. So instead you opted to lean against the wall between Nessa and Kabu, you head rested on the water gym leaders shoulder, while Kabu gave your shoulder a squeeze.

You were alive. They were alive. Leon was alive.

You just couldn’t see him. Or touch him. Or anything.

This would be a long night for you.

-

It wasn’t for Leon.

It happened in a blink of an eye from his point of view.

He was standing there, arm outstretched signalling his Charizard to protect Hop and his friend, Eternatus staring him down as it let out a blood-chilling scream that hurt even to remember. The flash of light that followed was burning, it ripped through him like a fiery arrow.

And then he was somewhere else entirely.

Everything hurt like hell. He knew, as someone who constantly pushed his body to the limits, that whatever had happened wasn’t enough to kill him. But it hurt like hell. Like he’d overdone it at the gym, and torn every single muscle in his body and now was paying for it. Stiffness, aching and bruising. It was intense, but Leon knows it isn’t fatal. It’s just enough to cloud his mind.

Though his eyelids are shut, he could tell that wherever he was, the lights were on. Instead of black, he saw a fluctuating red. If anything it told him his eyes were still working. He could hear the beeping of machines, frequent enough to notice but not rhythmic enough for him to block out as white noise. They sounded louder than normal like, he was hungover, every sharp bleep piercing his skull. Beyond that constant pounding headache, there was something else. Someone walking around his room.

He could have opened his eyes to see who. But there wasn’t much point. Even with his dismal sense of direction, the atmosphere was too recognisable. The harsh smells of medicine, mixed with the vitriol of cleaning chemicals. The hushed voices, the bright lights

This was a hospital.

Which meant whatever had happened on that rooftop was over, otherwise, he’d be dead. Or waking up in rubble. Or perhaps surrounded by panicked, screaming people instead of just…

Lying.

In a bed.

So, again, he pushed through the fog and found that same gap that haunted him. Just between Eternatus and now.

He wondered...

How did he get here?

-

“You’re making me nervous!”

You halted your pacing in the halls and threw a withering glare at Piers. It wasn’t his fault you were in such a state. There was too much restless energy built up in your body, it made you want to run or jump or do something other than wait.

The waiting was endless. Aching, painful. It dragged you on and on like you’d been tied to a cart and forced to walk behind it till your arms dropped off.

Pacing was a better way of letting it all out. Far better than crying. Or screaming.

You were not about to do that in public. And not in front of the most powerful trainers in Galar. Friends or no.

“How do you think I feel?” You hissed at Piers, ignoring the way he rolled his eyes. How could he be so nonchalant about this? This entire nightmare or a situation?

“He’s Leon. He’ll be fine.” Like a psychic type, he read your mind. You slumped back against the wall, your feet tapping impatiently. You wanted to kick something. You wanted to punch something.

Chairman Rose, preferably, but anyone would do.

“If I ever get my hands on that little rat-man I’ll—” You made a sudden and volatile strangling motion with your hands violent enough to warrant a worried look from Gordie towards his mother. Melony addressed you with a concerned gaze and spoke with a warmth one would not expect from an ice-type leader.

“I doubt you’ll be seeing him again. No amount of money could buy a not-guilty sentence after this.” She was right, and you knew it. But it did nothing to soothe the rage that pulsed through your body, erratic in its timing. It pushed you to kick or punch something as if Eternatus were still right there and not locked away in a 12 year-olds Pokeball.

That was another crisis you didn’t need to think about now.

Before you could start a pointless argument with any of the others, the door to Leon’s room opened. The corridor full of your friends, the most powerful gym leaders in Galar, froze like they'd heard a blood-curdling scream. You froze too as the doctor stuck her head out the door and locked eyes with you.

"He's not awake." Your heart sank and then lifted.

"But you can come and see him." There was not a thing, living or otherwise, that could have stopped you from barging into that room.

-

It's embarrassing to Leon, that all the fog in his head went away once you came in. He should feel his cheeks burning, perhaps even scold himself that he hadn’t tried hard enough to focus when his mind needed to always be in top shape. He’s just too happy to hear you settle in beside him and speak, like for once you’d risen earlier than him, and were leaning down to give him a wake-up kiss.

“Hey.” Your voice was gentle, and he felt the word as it was said upon his skin, your lips having planted a gentle kiss to his forehead. The doctor said something to you and then moved somewhere that sounded away. Did that make sense? He knows that whatever she said certainly didn’t. It was probably important information about his condition, but he figured he was fine. He wasn’t dead yet! And besides…

He really just wanted to concentrate on you being there.

Even with his eyes shut he can still see your smiling face. It’s so clear cut and defined in his mine. The way the corners of your lips turn upwards, the crease of your laugh lines, the way the edges of your eyes wrinkle as laughter begins to spill into the air.

You kissed his forehead and suddenly those aches and pains all over were gone from his mind. Dull and unimportant when faced with what he adored.

“I love you…” You murmured and followed up your words by brushing back the hair from his face, as to give him another kiss. A soft sigh left him, and he could feel you smiling now. A slight hiccup broke the air, as you sniffled and, he assumed, wiped away a few tears.

Just for a second, he felt awful. Awful for putting you through this, for putting himself in a situation where you were seeing him like this.

Just for a second.

“You’re so dead when you wake up.” Your laughter is like the croaking of a Lotad, but he couldn’t care less because it’s yours. Happy despite it all, finding the joy in the worst of times. It bubbled up and filled the room and was soon joined, just for a few moments, by his.

“I know.” Leon managed through crackling laughter which all but burned his throat.

He opened his eyes finally. Yes, he was in a hospital room. With a white ceiling and bright lights. But all his eyes focused on were you, hovering over him and staring down with such adoration. An angel with red-rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks and a slightly snotty nose.

Your eyes lit up with such warmth and fire and he melted and moved his head up as you swiftly moved down. Your lips met.

The kiss is wet and salty but it’s proof to you that he’s alive and proof to him too as both your near-hysterical laughter broke you apart, you wiping away some of your few stray tears that had fallen on his cheeks and him wishing he had enough energy to wrap you up into his arms and pull you into the hospital bed with him.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the absence! My family are going overseas for the month and I've been left in charge of the house, so preparations have taken up a lot of my time! I should have some more time to write luckily! Regardless, I hope you enjoyed!


	7. Pink With Jealousy (Piers x Reader) [Part 1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this request is a two-parter because I wanted to post smth but I'm strapped for time! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t easy being friends with the Champion.

Leon is great. He’s kind, he’s determined and he’s an amazing pokemon trainer. He’s regarded as a hero and a role model. The kind of man every person should want to be.

All these things are why Piers considers Leon a friend, even if he’s not one for often verbalizing that kind of thing. Piers isn’t a fool, he can’t deny Leon is likeable. Even if he tried his hardest, it would be impossible to actively hate the man.

Piers knew because he’d already tried. Once, back when he was a jaded teenager who turned into a somewhat less jaded adult.

And again, now.

Because all these wonderful traits Leon had made him popular. And him being popular meant that he attracted all kinds of people seeking advice, friendship and oftentimes something more.

And you were one of those people.

“I can’t do that day, sorry Piers.” A bag hung over your shoulder, and a sympathetic look in your eyes that made him dig his nails into his palms, Piers watched as you stood up from the cafe table the two of you had been sitting at for the past 3 hours, having taken the time to catch up.

He’d always enjoyed these little moments, even if they didn’t last. You lived half the region away, and while travelling was easier than it was back when the two of you were on your gym challenge together, your time had been utterly consumed by your jobs and life.

Another reason he was looking forward to passing on the gym to Marnie.

“Meeting Leon?” He doesn’t know why he phrased it as a question. The way your eye gleamed and your lips quirked at the sides at the mention of Leon’s name, it told him everything he hated to know.

Why did you never react like that when he was around?

“Maybe.” Piers rolled his eyes and leaned back in his cafe seat, careful not to send it tipping backwards. The last thing he needed right now was you laughing at him.

“Why am I not surprised…”

“I can have two best friends you know!” Yes, he did know. But he didn’t want you to have two best friends. He wanted you to have as many friends as you wanted, so long as he was your boyfriend.

But he didn’t say that. Nothing in the world could have forced that confession out of his mouth, so instead, he sighed and mumbled an apology as he put his rotomphone and wallet into his pockets.

“Why don’t you come along to one of these parties? I promise you’d enjoy it.” No. No, he would not. Because parties that Leon held were never compatible with the parties that Piers liked. Too many people who were all the same: rich or famous. 

There was no thrill of meeting someone from a weird place, or with a weird job while loud music played and sudden pokemon battles occurred. With Leon parties, it was always the same. A famous, generic paid DJ who put on the same overplayed songs as he talked to a cycle of the same people with different faces. Saying the same things, acting the same way.

There wasn’t any soul to it, let alone fun.

He wasn’t sure how you hadn’t already become bored with it like he had.

“You couldn’t pay me to go.” He commented dryly. Your shoulders slumped and you let out the longest groan. It as an action he would have found irritating had it come from anyone but you.

“Okay, well I won’t be free to see you for another 3 weeks then.” Still, you stood. Still, you hovered over him, hands on your hips, a knowing look in your eyes. Piers didn’t want to break but…

3 weeks was such a long time.

“Text me the details.” He sighed. A sick feeling entered his stomach as you made a happy noise and then leaned down to give him a half-hug. 

“Promise I will! Text me when you get home safe!” You added so loudly that other patrons stared even as you whirlwinded out the door. Always a spectacle, always a bright sight.

Bitterly, he supposed that that was what made you and Leon so alike. It was what made you two so clearly perfect for you…

Bitterness was a feeling that followed him throughout the hours that followed, haunting him with a sore chest as he went to bed, but not before sending you that confirming text and receiving the date and location of Leon’s party.

Bitterness stays with him when he wakes up and goes about his daily business. And it’s bitterness that overwhelms him 3 days later when he stood at the gates in front of Leon’s apartment block. Each window bright with flashing light, people on every balcony, and crowds spilt out onto the sidewalk, wearing flashy clothes and bright smiles, singing brokenly to some vapid song blasting from a tinny stereo inside.

Bitterness gave way to a wave of anxious nausea as the dark type gym leader couldn’t help but wonder, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, what he had just gotten himself into.


	8. Quiet As The Room When You Told Him (Piers x Reader) [Part 2]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, its been like 2 months but I’m back! Uni, the quarantine and life have thrown me a curveball but I figured I’d finish this as a birthday present to myself! Here’s to hoping I’m not rusty!

Piers expected a mess when he walked in the front door.

The place was an overcrowded travesty. Every person stood around in their shimmery clothes. They all smiled, they all looked happy and they were all holding drinks. Sat at the foot of the staircase leading up to the apartments above. Barely standing, eaning against their friends and partners for support.

Piers pushed past the figures who blocked the way to the elevator and pressed the button. He'd ride it all the way to the top where Leon’s big penthouse apartment sat and overlooked the whole of Wyndon.

He did his best not to make eye-contact with anyone. The floor numbers ticked down, signalling the elevators slow approach. Piers had sent you a text upon arrival in the hopes that you’d see it and come fetch him. Knowing you, your rotomphone was likely tucked in the corner of Leon’s room charging. All while you sat in a chair in the corner and chatted away with whoever had decided to drop down beside you.

You weren’t a party person, per-say. Every few weeks or so was nice, but not all the time. But you liked getting invited. You liked dancing with particular people to particular songs. You liked sitting in a bedroom in someones flat. Talking to the waves of people who came in looking for someone easy to talk to.

That was you. A comfort person.

Who he now had to seek out in a building filled with energy so antithetical to his it almost made him laugh.

Almost.

Staring at this foyer he found the people who couldn’t make it up to the penthouse. And the people stuck in the space between town and home. Two separate social spaces, each with their own ups and downs. Make a choice and it would be that dedication that would decide the fate of their night. Continue to wait and they’d leave themselves stuck in the liminal space. Forced to reflect the next morning on a night utterly wasted by indecision.

Never an issue like that when one just went to a gig and went home, Piers thought bitterly.

He can hear the raucous shouting in the elevator before the doors are even open. Loud and indiscernible chatter followed up by cackling laughter. Before the elevator had finished reaching the ground floor, he stepped aside. Rather, he pushed himself back up against the wall as far as he could go, with many others joining in.

A good idea considering what followed.

The restrictions held the elevator to 15 people. Piers knew this after once finding himself trapped in there for an hour. He remembered that night well. After Raihan and Leon had convinced you it would be a fantastic idea for you to jump all at once.

That was a night he'd rather forget.

He’s not sure how the elevator hadn't dropped to the ground floor with the moshpit that spilt out. Freeing themselves from its endless void of space.

About 20 people poured out. There were some faces he recognised from Leon’s pikagram stories. With perfect makeup and outfits. Others were strangers. New friends or ones he’d never met. Leon did have so many. 

They were all heading out to the clubs, Piers knew that much.

All but the person at the back of the elevator. Who, when the crowds dispersed out the front doors, focused on him with a razor-sharp gaze. A gaze completely unbefitting of them, considering they'd crouched in the corner. Rotom-phone in their hands like it was a charm of life-bringing.

“Pierssss!” 

Oh, you were hammered.

“IIIII got your text. Came to say... hi.” You pushed yourself up to your feet and stepped forward, only to sway and hold onto his jacket. Your fingers dug in a little for grip, and your body half-pressed against his. He cursed his pale skin, which he knew was displaying a blush so pink it would put the accents on his jacket to shame.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he half-dragged you back into the elevator. You were not going into town. Not just because he knew you shouldn’t in this state, but because he knew you physically could not.

“M’ fine!” You shrugged and gave him a grin so bright it was almost believable. He sighed and shuffled you over to lean against the elevator wall for support. Of course, you were fine, you were you. Nothing affected you. 

“You don’t look it.” He muttered under his breath and went to hit the button for the top floor. When he stepped away you slid back down to sit on the floor.

You weren’t dressed as fancy as everyone else, but you’d still let yourself get done up a bit. No doubt Raihan and his stylist friends had given you some tips, maybe even some clothes. He’d certainly never seen you wear what you were wearing now

He would’ve remembered that.

“How long have you been here?” He asked as the doors shut. You stared up at him with eyes that couldn’t pick a part of his face to focus on. Then blinked twice as though you’d only heard his question 10 seconds after he’d asked it.

“What’s the time?”

“11.”

“4 hours.” Well, that was better than you showing up and getting to a state like this in half an hour. Something he’d seen you do before, back when you were teenagers still getting used to parties. 

“C’mon.” He offered a hand which you instantly took, and pulled you to your feet. The elevator continued to tick up, and he flicked you on the forehead. Your nose crumpled up and he ignored the jolt in his chest as you gave him a dirty look.

“What was that for?”

“You need to sober up. Drink some water.” You groaned as if this was somehow an inconvenience. But the smile you can’t hide told him you'd at least listen to him. That was always a 50/50.

“It’s a good thing you’re here for me, huh?” The final ding that signalled the elevator's arrival coincided with the stopping of Piers’s heart. He swallowed and then cleared his throat.

“Yeah…” He looked away, catching a glance of himself in the elevator mirror. He wasn’t worried about wearing the right thing, because there wasn’t one style that was right. Just styles he liked. It was a shame that style didn’t seem to share the taste of most of Leon’s friends.

And quite a few of yours.

The doors opened and when Piers looked back he found you staring at him with an odd look in your eye. Before he could begin to break it down you looked away and stepped out the elevator door. He sighed and put it down to the alcohol. 

The short corridor that lead to Leon’s massive apartment was packed.

Pepole seemed to be moving. Towards the door or the elevator. In or out they looked to either start the night, end it at home or end it in the grips of the city. The hungry, the thirsty and the ones who craved a far more clustered setting. They brushed past Piers and into the elevator. Then the others. Those with clothes uncrumpled and makeup unsmeared. They stood at the apartment door, neither late nor early. There was never a set time.

He didn’t recognise any of the people and apparently neither did you. Small hellos and greetings were exchanged. As Piers answered a dull question on his choice of jacket, you slammed your fist upon the door and bellowed.

“Hello?! Who locked the door?!” Your voice which was definitively louder than the others broke through the din of the party. And without an answer, the door clicked open some seconds later.

“Sorry, I guess I locked it behind you when you went down. Force of habit.” Leon stood in the door looking like a conventional god. He’d had his hair done and for once had let someone else style him. Someone with good taste. They'd put him in a pair of fashionable-if-boring jeans. A button-up shirt with the first few undone and nice looking boots. The bonus was the lack of terrible snapback or sponsor cape.

So he looked good, all things considered. Something of which you clearly agreed with as the people he didn’t know pushed past Leon to get inside.

“It’s cool.” Your smile was bright and your eyes were crinkled at the edges with fondness. You’d been away from him for all of 3 minutes and still looked at him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks. Which was ironically a position Piers was normally in.

All your frustration was gone, which in turn frustrated Piers. He wondered if you’d be so lenient had anyone but Leon been the source of your problem.

“I’m gonna get some water.” You threw Piers a pointed look to which he rolled his eyes at. Leon’s eyes focused on him as you slid by and disappeared in search of the kitchen. He looked Piers up and down and smiled.

“Piers! You look as gloomy as ever.” Piers smiled too, though it was subdued. Gloomy was good. It was what he was going for. And most importantly it stopped random people he didn’t want to talk to from approaching him.

He accepted the compliment as such with pride.

“And you’re just as airheaded.” He commented coolly as Leon let him inside and shut the door.

The party was just as much a mess inside. Low lights with lamps in the corner set to make an ambient glow. People crowded the hallways, doorways. Sitting on chairs and the laps of people on chairs. Piers had no doubt that the balcony was overflowing. And that every bedroom -room by extension- was full of kissing couples or individuals having poorly timed breakdowns. It was totally overwhelming.

So instead, Piers concentrated on something he could get a grip on. Or at least help with.

“How much have they had?” Leon doesn’t have to ask who he’s talking about. Especially when Piers’s eyes had focused on 'their' figure in the kitchen. Currently in the middle of filling 'their' second glass of water. 

You were looking better already. Focused, at the very least.

“Uh, well there was some cider…” Piers didn’t like the way Leon trailed off.

“They are not that much of a lightweight.” Which meant there was something else that Leon knew had been either a bad or stupid decision. The Champion rubbed his neck awkwardly and refused to meet Piers’s eyes.

“Well, the cider was followed up by fireball-” Great. 

It was both.

“What. Is wrong with you.” Nevermind that frankly disgusting mix of drinks, the fireball alone was a problem. And not a problem Leon would have to deal with. Not that Leon ever seemed to think about that.

Piers’s fingers went to his temples, and Leon tried to make the situation seem better.

“You think that’s bad you should see Raihan.” It was now that you rejoined the conversation. A bottle in hand that briefly filled Piers with fear before you caught the look in his eyes.

“It’s water, I’m not dumb.” Just impulsive.

“Where is Raihan?” You turned to Leon with

“In my room. I can look after him. Just try to make sure he has a good time.” Piers quickly assumed he was the ‘he’ in this situation, judging by the look Leon and you shared. 

“Force me all you want, it won’t work.” Piers told you flatly as Leon left, likely off to check on Raihan. You crossed your arms and actually managed to focus your gaze on his face this time.

“Who exactly do you think I am?” You shot at him incredulously. He opened his mouth, but you raised a finger before a word could leave him.

“Don’t answer that.” Your voice sounded stern -actually it sounded like a wobbly impression of some hard cop- but the half-smile on your face betrayed you. And as always, Piers couldn’t help but share it.

“There. That’s a start.” It was often said that people were more honest when they were drunk. Something likely tied to a lack of inhibitions, but that was beside the point. What was the point, then?

The point- the focus, at least for Piers, was the way you smiled. At him. A new smile that was fuller. He couldn’t quite describe what it was, but he could describe very easily what it did to him. How it made his stomach twist, and his gaze averted.

Most of all he hated how that smile made it that much less easy to be cynical.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” In your still inhibited state, you were unable to glean the meaning of his sudden shyness. But there enough in mind to know something was up. And to have a want for him to not be uncomfortable.

Piers swallowed.

“Quiet? In here?” Suddenly, as if the two of you had been trapped in a bubble, the music swelled. The crowds of people amped up. You both remembered you were in the centre of a very loud, very stereotypical party.

Piers coughed and you swivelled around, eyes locking on a door at the very end of the hallway.

He tried not to look too nervous when you hand wrapped around his wrist and gently tugged.

“There is one place.”

He doesn’t get a word out. Not one to question you, not one to refuse. He goes along with it, which might not have been the best idea considering the fact that you were still drunk.

But he still didn’t say a word, even when you both reached the end of the hallway. Even when you opened the door with a deftness no inebriated person should have.

Even when you ushered him into a small dark room, locked the door and turned the light on. Presenting the space to him with wide arms as if it were perhaps a cool secret tree fort, or decorated spare room.

And not, in fact, a bathroom.

It’s a nice bathroom. Black and gold, with lots of space. Toilet in one corner, sink across from it. And a long, stupidly big black bathtub running along one side of the wall.

You looked at Piers proudly.

“Leon has two. The other one is closer to the door so that’s where people go to vomit.” Gross.

He was careful not to say that aloud as you slipped by him and knelt down, placing a hand on the floor of the bathtub.

Whatever you were checking for, it wasn’t there. And Piers wasn’t quite sure if that was a good or a bad thing until you stood back up.

And then placed a foot where your hand had previously been.

“The other one-” You paused with the effort it took to swing your other leg over the bathtub’s edge. Then picked one end of the tub, sliding down into a seated position with your legs pulled up to your chest.

“-Is for getting away from it all.” You stared at him expectantly.

“Okay.” He sighed gently to himself, the one word representative of a larger defeat. It was difficult with his long legs. He looked akin to a spider stuck in a shower. Except instead of running water holding him back, it was the anxiety of being alone in a room with the person he liked.

More than liked.

The bathtub seemed that much smaller when he was sitting at the other end. His long legs pulled up in a mirror to how you sat. 

Piers coughed and did his best not to stare too closely at your face. You seemed utterly content looking right at him, arms wrapped around your legs.

“Can you tell me why we’re sitting in the bathtub?” It was hardly a sofa or a soft bed. Not that he would feel any calmer sharing a bed with you-

Piers stopped himself before this became any worse.

“It’s comfy.” You answered plainly and flooded him with doubt.

“Is it?” Hard ceramic? Cold at that?

You breathed a heavy sigh out of your nose and shrugged.

“Better than the floor.” He didn’t argue with that. Instead, he let his eyes trail to the small bathroom window. Streetlights barely making their glow through the glazed, obscured glass.

It was quiet after that. The party could still be heard through the walls. Ritual like chanting along to repetitive pop songs. The sound of something shattering followed by raucous laughter.

It didn’t just feel like you were in another room. It was like another dimension. Far away not just from the party but the whole universe, and universes beyond that.

Sitting in an echoey bathtub with the sound of a dripping tap like a tribal drumbeat. It was as if Piers and you were the only people left in the cosmos.

He almost brought it up as a nervous joke, but then you spoke. And the tone changed, and the atmosphere changed. And Piers found himself confused.

“Piers I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

His eyes focused on you now, peeking from over the top of his drawn-up knees. Your head tilted back, your eyes were on the bathroom ceiling. When he looked up, he found blank black tiles. He looked back because they were not as interesting as you.

“About what?” This wasn’t the first time you’d been drunk at a party, and it wasn’t the end of the world. He remembers a thousand other scenarios in the inverse. Bush raves where he could barely walk and you’d help him get home. Because that’s what friends did.

Why would you be sorry about that? And why now?

“It’s just.” You bit your lip and you bit it hard. When your head tilted forward and you looked at him again he found himself staring at someone not quite sober. But getting there. Not tipsy, but out of it enough to be seeing things with some clarity.

It was odd. It was like staring down a loaded cannon.

But he let you light the fuse anyway.

“I know you find these kinds of things overwhelming but I invite you anyway.” It was hardly a shot that would sink a ship. And the issue isn’t even one he’d consider a problem. But from your perspective it is. He could see that, with the lines of worry on your face. He could hear it in the hesitance and waver of your tone.

“I like being invited.” He did. He liked that you thought of him. He liked that of all people, he was the one you wanted to be there with you. Sharing these experiences. 

Your smile was weak, but it was amused. And that was better than a fake one.

“You just hate going.” He… yeah.

Yeah. Pretty much.

“Exactly.” It just wasn’t his scene. It just wasn’t for him. But if you were there, then...

“I promise next time we hang out it’ll be on your terms. And I’ll try to stop forcing you out to stuff like this. Only special events.” Piers didn’t like this. The look on your face as you made this compromise.

This was what you enjoyed, to an extent. Once a month, every two weeks when you had time off of work. Not every night like Leon. But enough to see lots of people frequently. To meet new people as well.

Piers couldn’t fault you for wanting him to be a part of that when you’d go to his parties under the same pretence.

So for once this night, he actually spoke his mind.

“It’s not that bad y’know. I’m okay, it’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s okay cos I’m with you.” The back and forth was so quick he couldn’t keep himself from saying what came to his mind. With this lack of inhibition and red cheeks, one would have thought he was the one who’d knocked back fireball.

He certainly felt that same nausea as your face blanched for one second.

“Is that why you come along?” He huffed. As if you didn’t know.

“You know I’d do anything if you asked me.” That caught you both off guard. Your eyes betrayed as much as, they stared at him with sharpness and wideness that shut him right up.

You swallowed and looked away from him. Eyes glued to the tiles that lined around the bathtub like a black stony ocean. Weathering this brewing storm.

“You can’t- you can’t just say that to me.” You didn’t meet his eyes but it was a knife to his chest nonetheless. Leaving an ugly open wound.

“Because you don’t like it.” It was far easier to look away from your face now. His knees became the focus of his attention, the rips in his jeans made for a cruel allegory for his heart.

He could have wallowed in that same sadness he felt when he saw the photos of you at Leon’s party. A jealous, guilty sadness that was repressed more than it was experienced. A sadness he felt bad for feeling even now. 

But that was impossible to do, when you opened your mouth and left him with nothing to wallow in.

“Because I do.” It’s three words. Not the three words he would have preferred to have heard. But three words that make his heart skip. That drew his attention back to your form. Just in time to catch a glimpse of your hand extending to rest upon his, so neatly laid on his knees.

You ran a finger over Piers’ knuckles and didn’t meet his gaze. Piers swallowed with his throat dry and placed his free hand over yours.

It was strange that after being so hyperaware of himself at the party, Piers couldn’t place when his back had left the end of the bathtub. Nor when you’d moved to meet him in the middle. Legs crossed and accommodated by the comically sized tub.

He wasn’t aware of any noise outside. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing. All he could feel was the warmth of your hand and the look in your eyes as you stared at him. Something so powerful that it felt like a weight.

Powerful and nervous he noted. Which caused a small smile of glee, that you quickly matched.

“Please don’t make me say it out loud.” Now that he laughed at. Breathily and heavily. Half-amused, half weighed by disbelief.

You didn’t have to say it out loud. Not right now.

If you said it out loud, he wasn’t sure his heart would be able to take it. Not with the way you were staring at him right now.

He swallowed and with it pushed down any urges to do something dumb. Just for the moment.

“Please don’t make our first kiss be in Leon’s dumb bathroom.” The dumb, diffuser of a joke highlighted by the fact that he squeezed your hands.

He’d only just noted that they were cold. Cold and a little sticky from whatever drink had sloshed out of your cup some hours ago. But they were your hands. And he was holding them.

He was holding your hands.

“I’m not a monster.” You matched the tone with ease. Whether the laughter was because you’re amused or giddy didn’t matter.

He hoped you didn’t find his hands too cold. Or too warm.

He hoped to stay like this with you forever.

And then he heard an almighty crash in the hallway. Followed by shouting, and laughter, and the sound of broken things. And Piers remembered once again where he was. And still holding your hands, he sighed.

“We could stay in here till stuff dies down and then go out for a walk in the wild area if you’d like?” Alone? In the wild area? His heart stopped a little for a second. Just a second, and then he realized what he’d have to go through

“I’d… like to stay here a little longer. With you.” Rather that than a slog through the crowds where he’d risk you getting pulled away by Leon needing who knew what.

“Even if it means sitting in the bathtub?” Yes, the bathroom was far more preferable if it meant he could continue to hold your hands.

“It’s not so bad.” And he wasn’t lying. You knew that, and a half-smile found its way onto your face.

“We don’t have to deal with Raihan vomiting.” 

“Or Nessa dragging us out into town.” 

“Or Sonia posing us for pikagram shots.” The back and forth ended swiftly but the smiles on your faces never faded even as the silence set in. Quick in its own life as you tapped the back of his knuckle once.

“Piers?” His eyes didn’t leave your face as your gaze turned down to your fingers. Perhaps still trying to glean the truth from a dreamlike situation. Not so unlike how he was watching you. Waiting for the scene and your form to fade away, so he could wake up in bed with a wave of disappointment.

But that didn’t happen, and so he gave a response.

“Yeah?” Waiting… waiting…

Nothing.

“It’s… nothing.” But it wasn’t. And he knew that you both knew it was so much more than nothing. 

It just wasn’t so easy to talk about right now. In a bathroom.

Not yet.

He laughed. Gently and under his breath. His finger moved up to brush along your cheekbone. His right hand rested on your leg.

Because if he could wait so many years to know, he could happily wait a little while longer to hear it out loud.

For you.


End file.
